


Our Love is The Only Truth

by AmbiguousCake



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Established Relationship, F/M, Kaito wears girls' clothes, M/M, Post-Black Organization Takedown, actual detective in heathers, hopefully a happy ending, plans get messed up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2019-12-06 23:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18226550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbiguousCake/pseuds/AmbiguousCake
Summary: In Ohio for a heist with Kaito Kid, Shinichi Kudo, High School Detective of the East, gets interested in an apparent suicide in one Sherwood, Ohio and begins to discover that all is not what it seems in this town.  Meanwhile,  Veronica and J.D. have to deal with the fact that their murder-suicide plot could be discovered.





	1. When you ruin your vacation because you're a workaholic

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this story is part crack, part seriousness. Because after looking at how incompetent the police were in handling the “suicides” in Heathers, I thought they fit right in with Detective Conan motif. DC also deals a lot with people trying to hide their crimes in various ways, so there’s that. Also because I want a better ending for Heathers and this seemed like a fun way to get there. Heathers will switch from movie and musical depending on how much detail I need and which one ends up working out better for plot reasons. People may also do more to try and hide once they realize a detective is actively looking into it. Who knows how this will turn out?

Shinichi was not a morning person by any means. He did, however, have to get up early for work most mornings and found suitable coping mechanisms for walking up quickly. Like coffee, the most blessed liquid in creation. Kaito swore Shinichi is more coffee than blood at this point, and Shinichi would be hard pressed to find evidence to prove him wrong. But still, his partner understood the need for caffeine in the mornings and as the morning person between them, (and night person) usually had coffee ready for Shinichi when he woke. So imagine Shinichi’s surprise when he woke up and there was no smell of coffee permeating the air. In fact, there was no alarm clock waking him up, the only sound was the noise of cars driving by. Shinichi’s house wasn’t on a busy road.

“Morning, Sunshine!” a too loud, too happy voice called out and a door slammed open and shut. 

“Go away,” Shinichi mumbled, probably into a pillow, but it was hard to tell. He heard a chuckle in the distance, but didn’t care to think about it too deeply. Thinking wasn’t happening yet, not until…

And then the aroma hit him. That bitter, mouthwatering taste that would shock his system into motion and melt him at the same time. Not a hint of sugar or milk in it, just pure black coffee, roasted to perfection. 

Slowly, a hand curled out from under blankets, probing the air tentatively. Like the kraken, it searched for its prey, just waiting to engulf it and drag it down to the deepest depths where he would savor it for as long as he could. 

“Ah, ah Shin-chan, you have to actually sit up before I’ll give it to you,” the voice taunted. Sadistic, evil voice, keeping him away from his coffee. But still, Shinichi needed coffee and thus sit up he must. He rolled over, heedless to the mess his hair made and propped himself against the headboard to properly receive his drink and was greeted by his favorite sight.

His boyfriend holding him what promised to be a delicious cup of coffee.

Shinichi graciously took the cup with a “thank you” that was somewhere between a moan and a grumble and forced himself not to scowl at his boyfriend’s teasing smirk. It was hard to scowl anyway when there was coffee to be consumed. The taste was just as good as the smell, and he did moan in a way he probably wouldn’t in public and leaned back into the bed content for the moment.

“You alive yet?” Kaito teased him, and Shinichi just nodded back, slowly coming into awareness. A few sips of heaven later and he felt ready to be a person.

“Thank you for the coffee, but weren’t you up late last night?”

“I was,” Kaito admitted, settling next to Shinichi on the bed, “but I knew you’d be dead after solving that case last night following a long plane ride, so I thought I’d better get you coffee lest I wake up to find a monster in my bed and not my boyfriend.”

“I’m not that terrible,” Shinichi protested with a scrunch of his eyebrows.

“Oh? I seem to recall waking up one morning to you groaning in pain like you’d been shot, which I may remind you has happened before. And then you latched onto my arm like a cat that’d just seen water and I had to make coffee that morning with a Shinichi limpet on my arm.”

Okay, that was not Shinichi’s best morning. In all fairness, there had been a double homicide made to look like a homicide and suicide and it had taken a long time to untangle. The thought of how childish he acted, more childish then when he was an actual child, made his face flush in embarrassment.

“I… I mean. I’m not always-”

“The thank you sex/I’m sorry after that though, was great,” Kaito said, perfectly straight faced perfectly breaking out into his signature grin. 

Reflexively, Shinichi grabbed a pillow to whack him with, a cry of “Kaito!” all too familiar as his cheeks burned hotter.

“Watch it, you’ll spill your lifeblood if you’re not careful.”

Shinichi calmed down at that, Kaito still smiling at him infuriatingly, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes. Kaito could be annoying as hell, but he put up with a lot of Shinichi’s eccentricities, as Shinichi did with him. Before he could change his mind, Shinichi leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Kaito’s grin immediately softened and he scratched at his cheek absently before getting up. One of Kaito’s many quirks, constant motion. Some would attribute this to too much caffeine, but Shinichi knew better; it was a constant sugar high.

“How did your night go?” Shinichi asked as the mood settled down. Kaito plucked a coin from nowhere and began dancing it across his fingers as he responded.

“Good, I wasn’t able to find the jewel.”

“And that’s good?” Shinichi asked, not following the train of thought yet.

“It means that I’ll have to plan a heist to steal the whole plane, which is going to be way more fun than just taking the jewel like a regular thief.”

“You’re going to what?”

“Steal The Independence from the National Museum of the United States Air Force.”

Right, they were in Dayton, OH because Kaito heard a rumor that Jackie Kennedy, wife of President John Kennedy, lost a valuable ring on a plane ride once. A sapphire ring said to make those who saw it weep. It wasn’t an exact fit, but with no other leads to follow, Kaito Kid deemed this one the best. It also gave them some time away from family pressuring them to get married already, so Shinichi agreed readily enough. 

“Are you sure that the plane has the ring?” Shinichi felt compelled to ask.

“No.”

“Do you have a plan yet?”

“No, but making the plan is half the fun, Shin-chan!” Kaito crooned as he threw the coin in the air. Shinichi never heard it hit the ground.

“So we’re going to be here for a while then.”

“Yes! And with that, I’m going to take a quick shower.”

Shinichi nodded, finishing the last of his coffee and mourning it already. It was better than the stuff he, er Kaito, made at home. He’d have to ask him where he got it when he got out of the shower.

Resigning himself to actually relaxing for a bit instead of giving into the workaholic he wanted to be, he turned on the TV to unwind. He flipped through a few channels, shows about cooking, ghost hunting and home improvement buzzed by, and Shinichi lost himself in the monotony of it all until a news channel caught his eye.

A female reporter stood in a high school gymnasium, varying school banners displayed across the walls declaring them the 2009 women’s soccer state champions among others. Behind her, a crowd of students watched an older woman with frazzled curly hair speak from a podium. She moved her arms grandly, her eyes sweeping over the students, trying desperately to engage them somehow. For the students’ part, most seemed to be paying attention to her. A few looked at her like she was declaring that the sky was falling, but many others leaned in to hear more of what she was saying. 

“Let Heather’s words wash over you, FEEL them in your soul. She may not be with us anymore, but she lives on in each and every one of you. Let us shine a light on our deepest fears so that we may accept her gift and learn to be the person she knows we should be!”

Shinichi blinked at her words before he focused on the headline running across the bottom of the screen, “Enrapturing school assembly following beloved student suicide.” He read the words again before he could parse them correctly as a beloved student committing suicide and not a beloved suicide, he was good at English, but sometimes the language was infuriating to read. 

And then the reporter spoke up, “I’m here at Westerburg High School where an assembly is gathering in the gymnasium, commemorating Heather Chandler’s suicide. Earlier this week, she was found dead in her house with a suicide note proclaiming how sorry she felt for her misdoings and expressing her feelings as a woman objectified by society. The suicide note has since gone viral, having been posted online after distributed in class, and many have commented on how it can be tough to know someone’s true feelings. That even the toughest people can be living behind a mask. We send our condolences to Ms. Chandler’s family and would like to thank her for her kind and inspirational words.”

The scene cut away from the school and to a newsroom of two reporters where another reporter picked up the train of thought, “Yes, thank you Carol, and again, we send our condolences to the family. Heather Chandler, age 17, was a well-known and venerated member of her community, a perfect role model for others to follow.”

Accompanying the reporter’s words was a picture of what Shinichi expertly deduced to be Heather Chandler. Her blonde hair was well maintained and styled, fitting her high cheekbones perfectly. The reset of her makeup was also expertly done, the shade of red lipstick matching the red blouse she wore and the smoky eye shadow accentuating her blue eyes. Shinichi inwardly groaned at his analysis, too much time listening to Kaito as he talked through making costumes. But still, even Shinichi could tell that this girl put time and effort into making herself look good.

“Many of her friends have come forward to express their heartfelt grief and give us a truly dazzling view into this exceptional young woman’s life. Let’s see what one of them, Ms. Heather Duke, had to say.” 

The scene transitioned into a bedroom, opulent to the extreme, the flowing drapes on the canopy bed, the plush white carpet on the ground and intricate wall decorations. Everything was in place, organized and arranged as only someone with too much time and vanity would do. Marring the scene was a smashed glass table in the center of the floor. Drops of blood mixed in with the glass fragments to stain the pristine white carpet and create a perfectly vandalized scene. 

In the center of it was a young woman with dark hair and perfect makeup, tears stains creating neat trails down her cheek. Her eyes were red from crying, but not puffy, and she spoke with all the dramatics of a professional actress.

“Heather was my best friend, we did everything together. She always seemed so sure of herself, so grand. That she would do something like this is insane! I miss her so much!”

As the young woman brought her hands up to cover her eyes and sob, the scene moved back to the main anchor room, the other reporter following up with facts about the case. A new headline ran across the screen displaying a suicide hotline number.

“Police responded to Mr. and Mrs. Chandler’s call Sunday morning and determined the death a suicide by poisoning herself with drainer fluid. It is important to note, drainer fluid in a large enough quantity will kill you, so please do not try ingesting it at home.”

A few seconds after the reported started speaking a silent video cropped up on the side of the screen. In it, police were walking through a kitchen area, photographing what they thought was necessary. A couple stood off to the side of the video, mostly likely the parents, the woman sobbing into her husband’s shoulder as an officer asked them some questions. Shinichi unconsciously committed the picture and video to memory as the reported continued speaking.

“Mr. and Mrs. Chandler left us with only a few words when asked, saying ‘Our daughter was our pride and joy, we always thought she was so happy. That she would commit suicide… it’s unthinkable. We loved her very much.’ Along with the sentiment that everyone should treasure their family as much as they can while they still can.”

“What kind words from such a distraught couple,” the other reporter chimed in. “If you suspect anyone around you is dealing with thoughts of depression or suicide, or if you yourself are, please call the one of the numbers on screen or go to the site listed on our homepage.”

Then the news segment shifted to a story about a lost dog that was found and Shinichi let his mind process the news story. Something about it all didn’t quite add up. From what he could tell, the girl, Heather, wanted to present a perfect appearance. Everything about her lifestyle that he could see indicated high standards that took time and effort. If that girl wanted to commit suicide, it seemed strange to him that she would choose to fall and shatter a glass table like that. It was dramatic, yes, but it seemed much more likely to him that she would position herself in a chair or on her bed. 

There was also something off about the kitchen, an inkling that was itching at his brain, but he couldn’t pin down what it was. The parents appeared genuinely upset, he didn’t think they would have been the murderers, but still, there just something…

Shinichi was still lost in thought when the bathroom door opened and Kaito stepped out, towel wrapped around his waist and hands ruffling through his hair. 

“Oh no,” he commented after one look at Shinichi. Instead of responding, Shinichi opted to give him the blandest look he could manage. “I know that look.”

“What look?” Shinichi asked as Kaito walked over and poked him between the eyebrows.

“That’s your case solving look. The one where you don’t have all the clues yet and you’re ready to tear apart the crime scene searching for them.”

“I’m not- there’s no-” Shinichi sputtered, but Kaito was already shaking his head dramatically.

“Shiiiin-chan! I thought we were going to have a wonderful case free vacation together.”

“Tell that to the Uber driver who thought they could hide bodies in their car we ran into yesterday.”

Kaito put on the most over the top sigh that he could and flopped onto the bed, eyes blinking owlishly up at his boyfriend.

“So?”

“Yes, there’s a case. It’s framed to look like a suicide, but there was something off about the crime scene I can’t quite pin down…”

“Hmmm, looks like we’ll just have to go check it out then.”

Grimacing down at Kaito, Shinichi said, “we?”

“Of course we! I’ll be your girlfriend, no sister, no that can be discovered, cousin then! That way I can charm pretty ladies or gentlemen for info better. I have the perfect outfit for it, too!”

With that plan in mind, Kaito shot up from the bed and began rummaging through one of his many suitcases for clothing, Shinichi resigned that this was just going to happen regardless of his opinions. Still, he felt the need to protest a little bit.

“Don’t you need to plan for your heist?”

“Hm?” Kaito asked, a gaudy red blouse in his hands, “Oh yeah, I’ll do that tonight.”

“You really are a vampire, aren’t you.”

Kid smiled at him, all sharp teeth and a dangerous glint in his eyes, “why, detective, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

It was Shinichi’s turn to sigh then as he got up to help Kaito pick out a suitable outfit to blend in with the crowd at Westerberg High. Shinichi wasn’t actually sure that the suicide was faked, but his gut usually led him in the right direction. Or it got him shrunk to the body of a child, but that hadn’t happened in a while. He would be fine, right?


	2. When it's way too easy to charm people with a pretty smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaito dresses up like a girl and goes snooping around Heather Chandler's house with his favorite detective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we get to the real part of the story! Which is probably going to be really fast paced because this train don’t slow down for anything. Except cookies. Always stop for cookies.

Kaito had to admit that he’s been on worse vacations before. As far as going sleuthing with his favorite person, it ranked pretty high up on his list of things to do. Going sleuthing in Sherwood, OH though, ranked much lower. There just wasn’t anything interesting to do there. No wonder this person committed suicide, Kaito would too if this was all he had to deal with. No, scratch that, Kaito would be all about making this town prank city with all these stuffy people in it. It’d be like the satisfaction of pranking Hakuba, the stuffiest high nosed teenager he’s ever met, but all the time. But he couldn’t prank anyone right now, not as Shinichi’s cousin Rika, it’s not in her character. Being overly excited about things is in her character, though, which leads to his current situation.

Being overly excited about getting to be at her first crime scene.

“Oh my God, this is a real crime scene?!” Rika announced more loudly than deemed necessary by absolutely everyone. To her right, Shinichi sighed loudly and puller her aside.

“Is this really the personality we’re going with?” Shinichi whispered to him. Kaito pouted as cutely as he could manage.

“But I wore these tube socks and adorable skirt and oversized sweater combination. And besides, you need someone to help break the ice, right? Bubbly girl being really nosy is a good start.”

Shinichi’s face contorted in about five different expressions in the span of a second before settling on exasperated and Kaito took that as his cue to continue nosing around the front of the house. Even among the other houses with five bedrooms, perfectly manicured lawns and rose gardens, this one took the cake. Small balconies from every upstairs room, grand windows giving glimpses to unnecessary parlor rooms, a decorative water fountain in the shape of a cherub out front. This house was just begging to be robbed; Kaito’s fingers twitched in anticipation.

Most noticeably, though, the house had a police car parked in the driveway and caution tape marking it off saying “Do not enter.” Rika, being way too excited and willful, ducked under the tape and headed for the front door when a voice cut her off.

“Hey, you! No trespassing, this is official police business.”

Pausing where she was, Rika turned to look at the officer walking towards her. Puffed up, swagger step, but leaning forward. Visible gun, but his hands weren’t reaching for it. Suspicious eyes that didn’t even notice Shinichi a few feet away. All very good points for a girl trying to make a distraction.

“Oh man, I’m so sorry,” Rika’s face immediately morphed into scared confusion, “I followed Heather’s twitter feed a lot and when she passed away I just couldn’t believe it. I just,” and here Rika looked away and attempted to compose her expression, “wanted proof, you know? I saw the news, but it didn’t feel real. I know it’s all dumb, but…” Rika burst into sobs at this point, her hands coming up to try and cover her face futilely. 

The officer quickly reached out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, all suspicion gone from his eyes. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shinichi sneak around behind the officer to the back door. Police officers usually traveled in groups of two, so Kaito would have to try and get this officer to call the other one out here for back up to give Shinichi enough room to investigate unhindered.

“Hey, it’s alright. I know losing someone isn’t easy, but you can’t just walk into a crime scene like this.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Rika apologized and in trying to scrub the tears off purposefully ruined her makeup some more, “I just wanted some closure…”

“I’m still going to have to ask you to leave, her parents don’t want to see anyone right now,” the officer explained, removing his hand to listen in on the walkie talkie for a moment. Listening in as best he could, it didn’t seem like they had found Shinichi. In fact, it seemed like the officer was coming back out after just talking to the parents.

“That’s okay, do you mind if I just stay out here then, until I don’t look so… you know?”

The officer hesitated at that, but Rika’s genuinely distressed face must have pushed him over the edge because he relented and let Rika sit on the bench but the water fountain to compose herself. Kaito used that time to fix his makeup a little bit but also to text Shinichi that the cops would be outside for a little bit, but the girl’s parents were in the house.

Kaito looked up as the other officer exited the house, this one bigger and gruffer looking, and Kaito figured he was lucky that he got the pushover one. He shifted where he sat and used the compact mirror he had to fix his makeup, but most importantly to read the lips of the cops and see if they had anything useful.

“The note seems pretty genuine,” the burlier officer said, “compared it to some handwritten essays and it looks alright.”

“Yeah, but didn’t the parents say they never would have expected her to commit suicide?”

The burly officer shrugged, “it can be hard to tell when someone will do that. Neither of them could think of anyone who’d want to hurt their precious daughter, said she was a real angel.”

“Yeah, and they’d cleaned up the kitchen, too, before they found her. Drainer fluid is an awful way to go, though.”

“True…”

Rika busied herself on her phone sending Shinichi the details as the conversation died off, and then put actual effort into fixing her makeup like she said she would. The cops hovered around as she sat there, unwilling to leave while someone was still there. She had a choice now, go and talk to them again or make a quiet exit? She heaved a dramatic sigh and got up to leave when she spotted Shinichi. It was obvious that he had found something. That sly smirk and all too casual walk bordering on overconfidence were all too familiar to him. 

Making a quick change of plans, Rika went up the police officers.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay and get my closure,” Rika said and abruptly hugged the gangly officer, successfully throwing both of them off balance. The first one, who Rika termed the gangly one, actually flushed a bit and being thanked and the burly one just gave a short nod.

“You shouldn’t go hanging around crime scenes though, you wouldn’t want to interfere with police business, right” the burly one said.

“Of course not, I would never, especially not in finding who murdered my friend,” Rika replied all too calmly and the police nodded along like that made perfect sense until they picked up the last part of what she said. They looked to each other and then the gangly one stepped forward.

“I’m sorry miss, I must have heard you wrong. Did you say someone murdered her?”

“Oh, yes, yes I did,” Kaito said with a shark’s smile. 

The burly officer stepped up then too and looked her straight in the eye with a grim determination of someone delivering bad news, “Miss, she wasn’t murdered, she committed suicide.”

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong my good sir,” Shinichi stepped in, gladly picking up where Kaito left him the opening to.

“Who are you?!” the gangly officer demanded, even going so far as to point a finger at him. Kaito nearly huffed, did they always have to be so cliché? 

“Shinichi Kudo, detective,” Shinichi stated, as if that was all the explanation needed. The officers didn’t seem to buy it, but Shinichi wasn’t going to offer any more of an explanation and instead steamrolled right into what he found.

“The note?” Shinichi asked and Rika pulled out the suicide note from her sweater sleeve where she had stashed it when she hugged the police officer earlier and swiped it. The officer’s face burned for a second in rage as Shinichi double checked something about the letter before turning to face the police and distract them from their anger.

“This was not written by Heather Chandler,” Shinichi held the note up as if that explained everything.

It was the burly officer who recovered first, “of course it is. Who else would have written a suicide note in her bedroom before she died?”

“Her murderer of course. You see,” Shinichi started before they could get a word in, something that was usually Kaito’s job, but he loved watching his boyfriend take charge in these situations so he’ll forgive him this time, “this was written by a rollerball pen, you can tell because of the smudges and the thickness of the lines.”

“And why is that important?” The gangly officer puffed up.

“There is no rollerball pen in that house. They’re all ballpoint. So, where did the pen go?”

The two officers stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment. Kaito understood the feeling. Being around Shinichi tended to leave you with feeling like you just got slapped in the face with truth.

“The, the pen has to be in there then. Maybe it rolled under the bed or…” the gangly officer trailed off, not quite believing his own words.

“I checked her room thoroughly and didn’t find it anywhere. Now, the body has been removed, but considering her usual morning attire was a robe, I didn’t think she had it on her when she died.”

The two officers still stared at him gobsmacked, so Shinichi continued on, “this isn’t hard evidence, but I would have guessed a girl like her to want to die with dignity, lying on her bed in proper clothing. She was found in the morning, but her time of death was not late at night or even early morning, it was mid-morning. Why commit suicide then? Most suicides are done later in the day, especially at night. Again, it isn’t evidence, but it does throw suspicion on it.

“Also, how many cups were in the sink when she was found?” Shinichi abruptly asked, startling the two officers back into awareness. 

“Now, what kind of right do you think you have-” the gangly one started, but was cut off by his partner.

“Three. The parents each had one cup, but there was another one in there.”

“And the cup Heather drank from was on the floor of her bedroom, correct?” Shinichi zeroed in on the officer listening to him.

“That’s correct.”

“So why the other cup?”

Again, neither officer had an answer for him. The gangly one’s indignation died down at his partner’s compliance and they both looked to Shinichi hopefully, like he would have the answer to their next question. Kaito knew better, though.

“So who did it?”

Shinichi shrugged, “I don’t know. Most of the evidence I could have used is gone with the police investigation, and even then it’s circumstantial at best. I don’t know anyone in this town well enough to try and figure out who would even want to murder Heather Chandler. But if you’ll let me, I’d like to try and help you catch this person.”

Kaito drifted off from there as Shinichi and the officers exchanged phone numbers and took out his phone to get the address of their next stop, a girl named Heather Duke. After Shinichi declared his intention to investigate here, Kaito did some snooping on his own and found that this girl took every chance possible to appear on every news site related to Heather Chandler’s death. She claimed to be her best friend, which would help absolve her of guilt, if not for the sheer number and variety of news sites she visited. 

“Shin-chan!” Rika called out, successfully getting his attention from what Kaito was sure must be a fascinating discussion on the differences in American and Japanese police systems, “we have another stop, today, remember?”

“Ah, right. Thank you for your time, officers, and please keep me in the loop on the investigation.” Shinichi bowed politely, and flushed adorably when the officers gave him confused looks. Taking pity on him, Rika swooped in and latched onto his arm, tugging him away.

“You look so cute when you blush like that,” Kaito smirked, leaning in to peck him on the cheek. The resulting scowl was even better.

“I’m driving,” Shinichi declared as he slipped the keys out from Rika’s purse.

“I’d be impressed with the improvement in your thieving skills, but I’m too disappointed by your grandpa driving ability,” Kaito challenged, but walked around the car to get into the passenger side.

“Not everyone has to drive like they’re throwing off the cops every time they’re in the car.”

Now it was Kaito’s turn to pout, if only to see the victorious smirk on Shinichi’s lips. Some battles were worth losing to win the war after all. And if tolerating just below the speed limit driving was the price of seeing that smirk directed at him, Kaito could deal with it. Probably.

Heather Duke’s house wasn’t much different than Heather Chandler’s. Big, ornate, with an almost identical fountain in the center and accompanying garden. Kaito was willing to bet their mutual friend, Heather McNamara, also had a similar looking house. Did their parents all buy from the same catalog? What else about their lives was the same? He was just picturing all of their pictures growing up with them wearing the same clothes in different colors when the doorbell ringing dragged him out of his thoughts.

Deciding it would be better if he wasn’t immediately present for their conversation, Kaito wandered over to the garden and found an identical bench to sit on and wait. He could still hear the conversation from where he sat without intruding on them. Maybe next time they should go around as cop buddies, or maybe brothers? They looked similar enough. Take a page from that TV where they paired the brothers together all the time.

“Yes?” A woman’s voice called out from the speaker system. Figured that a rich couple wouldn’t answer the door like regular people.

“Hi, my name is Shinichi Kudo. I’m a detective looking into Ms. Heather Chandler’s death. Is Ms. Heather Duke around? I’d like to speak with her.”

Shinichi’s voice was still a bit too chirpy for a proper adult; Kaito attributed that to all his time spent as Conan making his voice higher to throw people off. All those “Ah le le”’s still haunted him some times. It was something he needed to work on if he was going to continue investigating people. When he got into the middle of a discussion, he’d be fine, but the initial introduction was always hard for him.

“Oh, yes, she’s here. One moment please.”

Shinichi bowed habitually and Kaito sniggered. When Shinichi looked back at him pouting, Kaito had to bury his smile in his hand and decided to instead busy himself with a phone game. His time would come.

Kaito put his phone away when the double door opened with barely a creek to reveal a young woman of medium height. Her makeup was light, likely freshly put on, but clean and her dark hair was pulled up in a ponytail with red scrunchie. It was Heather Duke alright. 

“Are you another journalist?” she asked and despite the sadness she wore around her, Kaito could already see her formulating a half dozen responses to questions. Kaito almost felt sorry for her. But then again, at the moment she was the prime suspect.

“No, I’m a detective. My name is Shinichi Kudo. You’re Heather Duke, correct?”

Her cloak of sadness faded to wariness as she hesitantly answered, “yes.”

“And you were friends with Heather Chandler?” 

“We were best friends,” she declared, clearly getting back into her element. Kaito could see her sizing Shinichi up, pegging him as not much older than she was and turning her nose at what she saw. It took all the willpower Kaito had not to visibly show how much he wanted to storm up there and tell her how wrong she was. But she would find out anyway.

“Were you with Heather Chandler the night before she died?”

“Yeah, we were all at a homecoming party at Ram’s house,” Heather said, hands absently reaching to the scrunchie in her hair.

“Can you tell me about the party?” Shinichi asked, and even though he wasn’t writing everything down, Kaito knew he was committing each piece to memory. Or was entrusting Kaito’s eidetic memory to remember. 

“Uh, sure. It was the usual popular crowd, the Heathers and everyone else. We were getting hyped for the football game with music and drinks, uh nothing alcoholic though,” Heather quickly clarified. The lie was pitiful at best.

“Ms. Duke, I’m not a cop. I’d just like to know what happened.” 

That seemed to spark something in the girl as she looked over Shinichi again, seeing something else now. The lack of uniform or badge, the youngness taking on a new meaning. She looked Shinichi up and down like he was an outfit at a store and she was trying to decide if it was worth her money or not.

“Why are you even here then? It was a suicide. There’s nothing to figure out. Why should I tell you anything?” She leaned back and crossed her arms, raising one eyebrow so high she might be the star of 1900s drama. Show time.

“Look,” Rika said as she stormed up the stairs drawing Heather’s attention on her, “it wasn’t a suicide. No girl that pretentious would have committed suicide without making it an event. I don’t buy that she did it out of the blue. You’re her best friend, did she actually seem like she’d kill herself over, I don’t know, a fight with a friend?”

Kaito watched for Heather Duke closely, monitoring every minute facial tick so the guilty look that flashed across her face was as easy to spot as Shinichi’s horrendous bowtie. It helped that he had a lot of practice reading faces and she probably had none in hiding her expression. 

“Heather and I fought a lot, so what? She picked fights with everyone.”

“Oh?” Rika drawled, “But you said before that she was the perfect best friend, a real angel.”

Heather grimaced, obviously remembering all the random bullshit she had said on TV, before saying “well, she could be. But most of the time she was a bitch. I loved her for that, most of the best times hanging out with her was when she humiliated someone. We fought sometimes, but I wouldn’t kill her over it.”

That was a new perspective they haven’t gotten yet. So far, everyone had been reluctant to speak ill of the girl that wrote such a beautiful suicide note. It seemed everyone was willing to forgive her transgressions because of it. But rile people up enough, or imply they might be a murder suspect, and their real feelings came out fast. Whether what they said was true or not, the interrogation spotlight revealed their true character. And Heather Duke was no exception.

“Who else did she noticeably fight with?” Shinichi asked, picking right back up with the investigative questions.

Heather shrugged, “Everyone, but if I had to pick one person… it’d be Veronica Sawyer.”

“Who’s that?” Rika asked.

“Used to be a goody little two shoes nobody until Heather decided to make her one of us. Now she’s a goody little two shoes with better hair and makeup trying to stand up for that loser pig with that creepy boyfriend.”

Kaito filed away that onslaught of information to parse through later.

“Anybody else?”

“Heather McNamara, but she wasn’t the type to fight back. Just let Heather walk all over her. I wouldn’t have been surprised if we found out she committed suicide. Sad, maybe, but not surprised.”

Kaito and Shinichi shared a look at that statement, but neither wanted to comment on how callous this girl seemed to be. Did she really feel nothing for her friends? It could have been some defense mechanism, but even then you would think that she’d drop it considering they’re questioning her as a possible murder suspect. Kaito almost admired her resolve to be herself no matter what. Almost.

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Duke,” Shinichi said with a small bow. Rika opted not to bow and the two engaged in a staring contest for a moment. Kaito knew he shouldn’t feel as satisfied as he was that she looked away first, but what can he say? He was petty like that.

“Whatever,” Heather huffed and walked away with no small amount of sass to her steps. Kaito and Shinichi walked back to their rental car, silent until they were safe in the car.

“What are you thinking,” Kaito asked, leaning back with his hands behind his head.

“It’s hard to tell,” Shinichi commented with his chin in hand, “she certainly had motivation to do it, and seemed capable of such an act, but I would have expected someone that murdered someone to be more on edge. She was so unrepentant about her actions. It doesn’t add up.”

Kaito shrugged, “She was guarded about something, though. Trying to act stronger than she was. It’s most likely just low esteem, but it could be something else she’s hiding.”

Shinichi hummed non-committedly and Kaito settled to watch the gears turning in his eyes. It was a show in and of itself, the way he looked without seeing as his face changed slightly with each new thought that passed through it. The way eyebrows furrowed as he asked himself a difficult question, the nose twitch when he tried to remember something he couldn’t and the way his mouth crinkled when he put two pieces of the puzzle together. Kaito could stare at him like this for hours.

“We should talk to Veronica Sawyer tomorrow,” Shinichi announced as he turned the car on and sped out onto the road. Kaito could practically hear Shinichi’s pulse racing, too high on the adrenaline rush being in the middle of a case gave him to pay attention to how fast he was driving.

“What happened to driving the speed limit? Too excited about the case to slow down now?”

Kaito could see Shinichi fighting the flush at being caught overeager about the case and muttered just loud enough to be heard, “shut up.”


	3. When you realize you can't lie but have to anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica and JD are visited in school by Kudo Shinichi and his "cousin" and Veronica realizes her life is slowly falling apart around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we get to see Veronica’s point of view. So far, nothing’s really changed, but how will knowing a detective is around affect them? We shall see :D

“JD, I don’t like this. He’s going to figure us out. I looked up his profile, he’s had an almost 100% success rate in solving murders. Particularly those disguised as suicides. We’re going to go to jail. I’m never going to get into Harvard,” Veronica ranted as she paced in front of her locker. JD leaned against her locker door, calm as ever and an infuriating half smile on his face. Any other time that would be reassuring to Veronica, but right now, everything was going to shit.

Veronica didn’t mean to kill her friend/enemy/resident bitch. She went over that morning with JD to apologize and make up with her. But JD had to joke about giving her Drano to make all her problems go away and she had to accidentally grab that cup instead of the tea and Heather had to drink it all in one go as if she was proving something and then die instantly. Seriously, if Heather had taken only a few sips and not chugged the whole thing Veronica could have induced vomiting, she’d watched Heather Duke do it enough times to know how, and Heather wouldn’t be dead. She’d be pissed about being poisoned, but at least she’d be alive and Veronica wouldn’t be worrying about going to jail for involuntary manslaughter and worse, denied entry into Harvard.

When she was on the floor panicking over Heather being dead, JD convinced her to make it look like a suicide by forging a suicide note. Writing all those fake permission slips paid off in the worst way possible. The police initially believed it, too, and Heather Chandler’s death was ruled a suicide. While she wasn’t completely okay with the suicide note , it painted Heather in a better light than would ever have been possible while she was alive and figured it all balanced itself out.

And then Heather Duke messaged her saying how weird it was that a detective stopped by her house claiming Heather Chandler was murdered and Veronica nearly dropped her phone in shock. She wasn’t sure what she typed back, but it must not have been suspicious because Heather Duke moved on quickly enough to talk shit about Heather McNamara, as usual. Veronica continued the conversation on autopilot, but the rest of her brain was already trying to figure out a way out of this mess. This was absolutely the worst day of her life, which wasn’t saying much because the position was previously held by the project she failed in 7th grade because her partner’s computer crashed and neither had a backup copy. But still.

“We should turn ourselves in. Just say it was all an accident and we panicked and covered it up and we’re very sorry. That will at least give us a lighter sentence and then maybe I can spin it somehow to look slightly better and-”

“Veronica,” JD said as he moved into her personal space to cut off her rant, “We can’t tell them.”

“JD, I don’t think we have a choice. They’re going to figure it out,” Veronica explained and leaned a shoulder against the lockers next to her to give herself a little breathing room.

“You’re looking at minimum 12 months in prison for killing her, and that’s not adding that we tried to cover it up with a suicide note. They find out, there’s no more Harvard for you. So what’s more important: telling them the truth or your future?”

Veronica stared at him, his dark eyes more intense than she’d ever seen them, and she knew what answer he wanted from her. He wanted to continue the lie, fool the detective and somehow go on with his life. Could Veronica though? Knowing that she killed someone and given the chance to come clean still didn’t? Was she that kind of person? Yes, actually, that’s what she’s been doing since Heather’s death. She could have gone to the police at any time and told them the truth. She hadn’t. She could have refused JD’s advice to write the forged suicide note and called the police then. She didn’t. Veronica was undoubtedly a terrible person, but did she have to continue down that path, or could she start a new one?

Her doubt must have shown in her expression because JD sighed and leaned in, “Don’t let one mistake ruin your life, Veronica. All we have to do is fool one stubborn detective and then you can go to Harvard like you’ve always dreamed of, okay?”

Veronica found herself nodding at his words, but she still wasn’t sure what her feelings were on it. It was good enough for JD though because he smiled and patted her cheek affectionately.

“That’s my girl,” he kissed her on the cheek and Veronica smiled back, the tension leaving her now that the decision was made. Only to return tenfold when she looked past JD and saw the Japanese detective looking around the hallways.

“That’s him,” Veronica hissed at JD and nodded her head behind him. JD smiled at her and then leaned his back against the lockers to view the hallway, an arm snaking around her back to pull her against his side. She let him and watched the detective talk to Ms. Fleming before she noticed some girl at his side that was surveying the hallway. The girl wasn’t any student Veronica knew, but that didn’t mean much. Perhaps Mr. Kudo had talked to the principal and one of the students volunteered to be a guide for him? Also not likely. An assistant? Did detectives have assistants? Veronica didn’t know, but the way she scanned the hallways and sized people up definitely pointed in that direction.

As she was trying to get a better read on the girl, JD turned her head with gentle fingers and kissed her. She tried to push away, a natural instinct to fight PDAs, but JD broke apart for a second to whisper, “don’t stare at them” and Veronica supposed that this was one way to not be noticed and gave in. It also gave her an excuse to kiss JD, something that was slowly becoming a favorite pastime of hers. JD led the kiss as he had done before, and Veronica let herself get lost in the taste of cigarettes and slushie that was JD until a voice cleared their throat loudly behind her.

“Are you Veronica Sawyer?” Veronica pulled away from JD with a start and looked at a two pairs of eyes inspecting her. Shit, it was the detective, Shinichi Kudo, and that girl that was next to him, already judging her if the critical up and down look was any indication. Veronica suddenly felt very self-conscious of her swollen lips and the warm spot on her back from JD’s hand. Was her makeup smudged too? She couldn’t tell.

“Yes, I’m Veronica,” and then JD pushed on her back and she nodded her head in his direction, “and this is my boyfriend, JD.”

“It’s nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. …?” JD said as he extended his free hand out.

“Kudo. Shinichi Kudo, and this is my cousin, Rika,” Mr. Kudo answered as he shook JD’s hand. Rika switched from the profiling to a bright smile and waved at them both. Veronica smiled back, but still felt awkward around this girl. She certainly wasn’t acting like she was just his cousin, unless it was a family detective business? Were those things?

“I want to be a detective, so I’ve been following Shin-chan around,” Rika mentioned as if sensing Veronica’s concern somehow, voice overly chirpy and dripping with sweetness. The -chan though reminded her that these two spoke awfully good English for foreigners, she could hardly tell that they had an accent.

“Detective?” JD echoed, looking confused.

“Ah yes, I’m a detective, but a private one so I have no badge to prove it.”

“You could ask him to perform a deduction show if you really want proof,” Rika mumbled and Mr. Kudo sent her a sharp look to which she rolled her eyes. “Mr. and Mrs. Chandler asked me to look into their daughter’s death and see if it was truly a suicide.”

“Didn’t the police say it was?” Veronica asked and got a poke in her back for the question. Did JD not want her ask that? It seemed like the next logical question, though.

“They did at first, but after taking another look around the house they noticed a few suspicious things. Because of that, I’m going around and interviewing anyone that was close to Heather Chandler that could give us some insight into what might have happened. You were close with her, correct?”

Veronica waited half a beat to see if JD would interject with something, but when nothing came forward she responded, “Yes, we often hung out together with the other Heathers.”

“Heather Duke mentioned to me that you often fought with Heather?”

This time, she felt a prod at her back and looked up at JD who gave her an encouraging smile, almost resigned in a way. So he wanted her to say what she really thought of Heather? “Well, yeah, she always wanted to play these dumb pranks on people and sometimes I didn’t want to go along with it.”

“Did you have one of these fights on the night of the party the day before Heather died?” Rika asked abruptly and Veronica couldn’t stop the grimace that came to her face. Not like she’d be able to lie about it anyway, anyone there could confirm that she and Heather fought, but this wasn’t painting her in the best light. JD rubbed soothing circles into her back so she took a deep breath and pressed on.

“Yeah, they pulled this prank on my friend, Martha, where they gave her a fake love note from some guy and then tried to further humiliate her in front of everyone at the party. I put a stop to it, but then Heather got on my case about not acting like a Heather and basically threw me out of their group.”

Mr. Kudo looked at her intently then and she could see the gears turning in his head, putting the story together. He was definitely going to figure out it was her. She had just admitted to getting into a huge fight with Heather the day before she was supposedly murdered. Unconsciously, she leaned in closer to JD for comfort and his grip around her tightened.

“And that was the last time you saw Heather Chandler?” 

“Other than the funeral, yeah,” Veronica lied. There was no other way around it. She had to say something quickly otherwise it would look suspicious, and she definitely couldn’t admit to seeing Heather the next morning, so yeah that fight would have been the last time she saw Heather Chandler.

The cousin narrowed their eyes at her and leaned in to whisper something in the detective’s ear. Did she have some tell that gave away her lies? She never was good at lying; she never had a reason to before. Obviously she’d be shit at it and they’d see through it immediately. Fuck they were so screwed and they hadn’t even been talking for five minutes and she was already going to be thrown in jail and-

“Veronica,” Mr. Kudo started, “you were upset with Heather, weren’t you?” His tone was patient, not accusatory, like a parent trying to coax the truth out of a small child who took the cookies from the cookie jar.

“I… I, yes. I was,” Veronica admitted.

“Did you go to Heather’s house then, try to make up with her?” Veronica was about to say no, but maybe she left behind evidence she was at the house. Should she just admit that she went there that night, even if it wasn’t true, to try and say she wasn’t there the next morning when Heather was murdered? Or lie and continue trying to say she hadn’t seen Heather at all and that any evidence there must have been from another time at Heather’s?

“I…”

“She was with me,” JD answered for her. Veronica whipped her head around to face him, too shocked at him interrupting and admitting that to try and formulate some kind of plan.

“With you?” Rika echoed.

“Yeah,” and then JD turned to face Veronica, resigned in his explanation, “I know you were supposed to go straight home, but we can’t lie to the detectives about this. They won’t tell your parents, right?”

Mr. Kudo gave him a discerning look, “we might have to, if we want their input on the case.”

“You can’t!” Veronica blurted, trying to follow along with JD as best she could. Mr. Kudo and Rika shared a look between them before Rika just shrugged and Mr. Kudo sighed.

“Unless we have to, I won’t tell them anything.”

“Thank you.”

“So then you spent the rest of the night with JD?” Mr. Kudo clarified.

“And morning,” JD chimed in, “she was really upset with Heather, like you said, so she came to see me. Actually, she snuck in through my window and demanded to have sex with me-”

“JD!” Veronica nearly shrieked, face aflame with embarrassment. JD paid no heed and continued.

“And then we fell asleep tangled together and I snuck her back home the next morning.” It was a good lie, and said so naturally, too. Especially when it was masked by the apparent hesitancy to talk about meeting in the first place. JD effectively drew the conversation away from asking her about seeing Heather.

“You went in through his window?” Mr. Kudo asked and Veronica’s face blushed even harder.

“Well, I didn’t want to go through the front door if his dad was home, so yeah I broke in through the window. I… was just really upset after what Heather had said. You may think this is high school nonsense, but it felt like the world was ending, so what was one broken window in light of that?”

The detective and his cousin exchanged glances at that before Mr. Kudo looked at her and said, “we’re in high school, too. Seniors, just like you.” Veronica blinked at each of them before her mouth dropped open. She tried to think of anything to say but JD just started laughing next to her. She knew his profile said high school detective, but she thought that was years ago! Had he really only been doing this since he started high school?

“JD, quit it,” Veronica scolded, but JD just kissed her cheek and told her she was adorable before he turned to look at the two “cousins.”

“Do you have any other questions for us? Class should be starting soon and Miss I’m-going-to-Harvard doesn’t like to be late.”

The two “cousins” exchanged a look that held an entire mental conversation, something that she only ever saw couples and close siblings do before, but then Mr. K -err- Shinichi, calling him Mr. Kudo when he was her age felt weird now, shook his head and said that if they had any more questions they’d reach out to them. He also handed them each a business card with his cell phone number on it so if they had anything else they thought of they could call him. 

Veronica didn’t let herself relax until she was sitting in her first period class, and even then, she didn’t hear a word the teacher said as her mind raced with thoughts about the detective and his “cousin” and what the heck she and JD were going to do about the situation.

It wasn’t until after school that she was able to talk with JD at his house. His dad was watching TV downstairs, some sitcom with a loud laugh track. It was mocking her. It was the universe’s way of laughing at the predicament she found herself in. Veronica Sawyer, who wanted to go to Harvard and probably be a lawyer, was going to be a convicted murderer instead. Awesome.

“Hey, now, don’t make that face,” JD said as he pulled her into his lap sideways and wrapped his arms around her. Veronica sighed, trying to push all the negativity out of her, and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I just don’t know what to do, JD,” Veronica confessed quietly.

“Well lucky for you, I do.”

“You do?” JD laughed a little at her incredulity, but Veronica thought it was well deserved. 

“I do. I have a plan.”

“And that plan is….”

“Ah ah ah,” JD tsked and put a finger to her lips, his eyes alight with mischief, “If I tell you, it’ll ruin the surprise.”

“This isn’t time for jokes, JD. This is serious.”

“Oh, I’m very serious. Don’t you trust me?”

Veronica was about to answer of course, but did she? Here in his room, sitting on his lap and wearing one of his sweatshirts it felt like the answer should be an automatic yes. He hasn’t lied to her or made fun of her, he’s been nothing but sweet and helpful. Okay, there was the whole getting into a fight Kurt and Ram, but they were jerks. And the Drano thing, but that didn’t make him a bad person, just a slightly off kilter one. And who wasn’t a little weird.

“Veronica?”

“You just have to promise me one thing JD, no more hurting people, even as a joke.”

JD pulled back from her and she could see him looking for something in her expression. She wasn’t going to back down, though. One accidental death was enough for her. His smile faded into a frown and his expression grew solemn, like he knew he had to deliver bad news and didn’t want to. Too bad, this was a conversation that needed to happen.

“What about everyone else at school?” he asked instead. The non sequitur threw Veronica off.

“What do you mean?”

“Every asshole at school that wants to hurt you, or your friends, or the people just trying to get by. They don’t deserve to live. They should all be dead.”

JD’s hands on her shoulders tightened painfully, but it was nothing compared to the anguish in his eyes. Dark storms flitted in his irises, swallowing all her concentration. His jaw clenched painfully and he was staring right at her, imploring her to agree with him, to accept him. And Veronica wanted to. She wanted to be the one to take the pain away and make him laugh and smile. Oh God, how she wanted to make this love work.

“Do you like bowling?” It came out as a whisper, but she knew he heard when his fingers relaxed on her shoulder.

“What?”

“Bowling. And chili fries. Making brownies together in the kitchen.” Veronica continued listing things off, unaware of the tears gathering in her eyes until she felt one slip down her cheek. JD was quick to catch it and cup her face gently.

“I haven’t been bowling in a long time. Not since…” he trailed off but Veronica continued on bringing her hand up to rest on his.

“We could go next weekend. And then go see some bad movies the week after. Maybe walks at the park, or hiking or-”

“Veronica, why are you asking me this?”

“Can’t we just be normal teenagers? Do normal teenager things? We don’t have to save the world, JD, just each other. I’ll be there for you, and you be there for me. That’s all we need right?”

“I…” JD trailed off and when his hand started to slip she held it there tighter. She reached another hand up to his face and locked eyes with him, hoping to convey the hope she had that they could be beautiful together, if only given the chance.

“We could go to prom together. I’ll wear an overpriced dress that my mom picks out and you can rent a cheap suit. You could hold me as pop music blares from every speaker and we’re smiling dopily at each other-”

“And dance the night away, not seeing anyone around us,” JD replied, his face breaking into a smile. It was the most genuine expression she’s ever seen on him, like he believed it could actually happen. 

Inspired, Veronica pulled him off the bed and began to dance with him, spinning him around. He laughed and lifted her into the air before pulling her close to him. There was no music around them, but Veronica could hear his heart beat where she laid her head on his chest and they swayed to it in small circles. He was warm against her and a little out of breath. Her hands gripped his shirt where they were wrapped around him and she prayed that they could stay like this forever, this one truly happy moment. But it was not meant to be; she needed confirmation. 

“Can’t we just be like this? Can’t I be enough for you?”

JD tensed around her, his whole body tight like a guitar string, and a sharp gasp escaped his lips. Veronica leaned back and saw the indecision flit across his features. His mouth flattened and then he’d bite his lip, or his eyes would dart to the side before coming back. And then the guitar string snapped and he almost went limp in her arms.

“Of course you’re enough,” before he brought a hand up to her cheek and pulled her in for a kiss. Veronica let herself melt into it, content for now that everything would be alright. They would get through this no matter what, and they would do it together.


End file.
